Big Tease
by SuperYellowSentai
Summary: Sam and Dean need a distraction to complete a hunt. Much to Dean's dismay it is in a gay bar. FEM!Sam Awkward!Dean ONE-SHOT


**A/N- Still currently working on the final chapter for Reality Check, but this idea came to mind and it had to be written out. Gender of Sam could have gone both ways, but for all intents HE needed to be a SHE**

The man across the street was unassuming. He was a regular everyday Joe curling his hands into his pockets for warmth in the crisp air, locking the front door and hurrying towards the obnoxious blue Prius in his driveway. As he started the car and backed up onto the street, Dean started his engine and waited until the car was an unassuming distance before he started to follow.

Sam stirred in the passenger seat as the Impala started moving forward. "He's on the move?" She stretched as comfortably as she could in the cramped space and rubbed the kinks out of the neck that she had hanging back awkwardly. "How long did he stay in his home until he left?"

"About time Sleeping Beauty." Dean smirked. He offered his still half-asleep sister a short look of amusement before he focused on the blue Prius two cars ahead. "Richard's spent maybe about four hours at his home, and looks like he's headed downtown."

"The bar?" Sam asked ignoring her brother's amusement. "So that means he should probably follow the same pattern tomorrow. According to the curator he'll be picking up the broach in the morning and the best time we have to swipe it is probably once he has his usual drink at _Sherlocks_."

Dean didn't say anything, but grunted an approval to the plan. He sped up to avoid hitting a red light and losing the obnoxious vehicle, and watched as the driver parallel parked into a spot just in front of the small bar labeled _Sherlocks_. He passed the car as he saw Keith Richard's slip out of the vehicle.

A few days ago Sam and Dean had gotten the familiar text from their father. The coordinates led them to a decent sized town in New York. There they found an article regarding an unusual death. The McGuire family had all been murdered in their beds, shot in the head. Only thing was there was no sign of forced entry, the doors were locked from the inside, and there was no gunpowder residue and no bullet from the wound.

Sam had worked her magic on her laptop and discovered another death this time in New Jersey with the same Mo from a few months back. It didn't take long for her to figure out that Mathew Collins, victim number one, had gone to an estate sale in New York, the estate sale at the home of the famous Rebecca Austral.

Rebecca Austral had been a flapper back in the 1920's who had married rich, once the crash occurred she and her husband had held on to their wealth. One day though she just went crazy. During a rather full party she brought out a gun and killed a good ten, injured two and once the police showed up brought the gun to her temple and finished herself off. No one knew why she went off.

Afterwards her home stood empty since the violent act back in 1932. A year ago her family had gone bankrupt losing everything, all property was being seized. Sam discovered that the broach she had been wearing the evening of the attack had been purchased by Collins at the estate sale. That evening, after the sale, he was killed in his sleep. Bullet in his head. From there the McGuire family had acquired the broach at an antiquities shop. That evening, dead.

Now they watched as the newest buyer walked into the bar. They had tried to swipe the broach at the auction home, but the security had been tight. There was no way that they could get in with the amount of security guards, cameras, and sensors. They had spent the day following him, figuring out the man's schedule, to get the best time to steal the broach and melt it down.

"Okay." Dean swerved the Impala into a parking spot a block down from the bar and turned to his sister. "We need to split up. Richard's tends to spend a lot of time at home, and according to his friends even when he goes to have a drink he tends to cut his time out short. We won't have enough time to burn it, especially if our flapper chooses to go crazy on us."

Sam gave her brother a weary stare. "Okay, so someone distracts and the other makes a grab?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. He eyed his sister and gave her a suspicious smirk. "So make sure you look all dolled up tomorrow and keep his attention. We can't have him coming home when I'm trying to grab it."

"Wait!" Sam spun her head around quickly her voice going up an octave. "No deal. I'm not playing dress up, besides, since the fire I have nothing. The only cloths that I have are flannels, tanks, and jeans from a Good Will. So not sexy."

Dean rolled his eyes. "So wear your shorts, and undo a few buttons on your shirt. You're not exactly sore on the eyes you know. You had more than a few _friends_ growing up that I had to beat down to deter them from making moves."

"Nope." Sam turned her head and glanced back at the little bar. "How about we do this. You distract and I'll melt down the broach."

"What good will I do?"

"Dean. Have you been paying attention to the clientele at Sherlocks?" Sam pointed back at the bar with a smirk.

"No, what does that matter?" He turned his head and watched a guy walk in the door. Then his eyes widened on a couple walking up just behind hand in hand, they were both guys. Another couple, both guys, were outside just next to the door making out in a very drunken manor. "Oh hell."

Sam couldn't hide the amusement on her face. "Oh yes. Apparently Mark Richard's bats for the other team, so-" Sam reached around and patted her brother's chest. "I'd wear a V-neck, or if you want to do a button up, undo some of the buttons. I also have cherry lip balm you could borrow." She ignored her brother's glare, and shrugged. "If ya want to be convincing."

"Shut up!"

xxxOOOxxx

The bell gave an obnoxious ding when Dean slipped in the bar the following evening. He felt rather than saw half of the bar turn and glance at him as he stalked passed a good number of the guys in the bar to sit next to his target. Dean held back a grimace when he saw from the corner of his eyes Richards eye him up and down and give an appreciative smile. _Never again._ Dean chanted composing himself. This was the last time he would ever set foot in a gay bar.

He ignored a leer from the bartender and ordered a beer. He wasn't in a gay bar. No, he was just sitting down at the typical hole in the wall place the siblings usually frequented, and Richard's was just a guy he was striking up a conversation with. In fact, there weren't a bunch of guys behind him staring; there were bare naked hot women.

"On me Mike."

Dean turned and finally glanced over at the man sitting at the stool next to him. Mark Richards's despite directing the order to the bartender, was staring directly at Dean. The bartender returned and dropped the beer in front of Dean with a smile. Dean pictured the buff man as a smoking hot blond with a huge rack and returned the smile.

"Thanks." Dean grunted after taking a drink from his bottle. He swiveled his chair around to face Richards.

"No problem." Richard's smirked. He straightened his tie and gave Dean an appreciative look. "So I haven't seen you around here."

"Just dropping in. Business is taking me through town. I asked around for a good drinking spot and got suggested this place. It isn't too bad." Dean took another drink from his beer, and continued his mantra in his head. _Hot girls, not guys, hot girls, not guys._

"Well lucky me." Richard's beamed and took a sip from his glass.

The bartender came back around and eyed both Dean and Richards with a smirk. "So closing up your tab for tonight, Mark?"

Mark turned to look at the bartender and shook his head. "Nah, I think I'm going to stay a little longer tonight, Scott. In fact, another drink, please."

"You got it." Scott the bartender started mixing up Mark's order.

Dean glanced over at the clock above the bar. Sam should just be making it to Richard's house, then she'd give him a sign that the broach had been dealt with. All he'd have to do is survive the next hour at least and he could get the hell out of here.

Mark Richards was back to smiling at him, this time obviously adjusting the band on his obnoxiously expensive watch. _Dear God! Hurry up!_

xxxOOOxxx

Sam pulled opened the window and crept in slowly. Immediately she headed towards the security device she had seen when she'd stopped by and shined her light on the machine. She pressed in the code she remembered seeing when he'd shut the door behind the two of them. _122776_. Instantly the blinking light on the machine turned from an angry blinking red to a calm green. She wasn't sure if Richards was just stupid or cocky to use his own birthday as a code. She had been a little shocked when she saw the numbers being typed in. Not that he had noticed her watching.

Now that there was no police threat she turned her attention to trying to find the box containing the broach.

Posing as a technician from BRIC Security, Mark's security company, Sam had conveniently come by to do a _routine check_. Seated on the chair she'd asked the typical questions. Did he have any complaints with his system? She'd nodded her head and filled out on her form his responses, meanwhile focusing on the box he'd situated on the mantle.

As she turned the corner and stepped into the OCD clean sitting room she spotted it. Right where it had been; the extravagant broach was centered on the mantle. She walked towards the box tense, silently pleading Rebecca to just let her do her job and destroy the piece of jewelry.

Of course when did thing ever go the Winchester's way? There was an angry wail, and Sam dodged in time to avoid a very real sounding and feeling bullet from entering her back. It left an angry red trail of red and shredded the material of her flannel on her arm, but she'd managed to dance away fairly unscathed.

Sam breathed a sharp curse and brought up her weapon searching for the crazy ghost.

xxxOOOxxx

"So wh'r you from?" Richards had finished his second shot of tequila and already had a slur in his tone. He leaned forward getting in Dean's personal space and swayed.

Dean smirked at the man's inability to hold his alcohol and gave an honest shrug. "Don't have one place. Dad was a traveling businessman and my sister and I just kinda followed him around where ever he went. Still haven't put my roots down anywhere."

"I know where you can put _your_ root." Richards chuckled cheekily. He reached out a hand and squeezed Dean's thy.

"None of that." Dean flinched at the touch and removed the hand. _I'm just distracting him for a little, until Sam finishes this job. Do not start throwing punches._

"Too soon?" Richard's leaned back, swayed, and gave a pout.

"Yeah dude, too soon." Dean stated dryly downing the last of his beer. He thought he would order another drink, anything to help with the situation, but he wanted to keep control. Last thing he needed was to get drunk and not be in control.

Richards hesitated but gave a smile. "So how long will you be in town?"

"A few days." Dean waved over to the bartender and requested a water. "Until I get a call from my boss."

The drunken man on the stool seemed to forget his tact again and the sheepish smile turned to a wolfish grin. "Well we should get together one night, maybe mess around."

Dean couldn't hide his distaste this time. If Richard's had been sober, then his act would have been given up then and there. He luckily changed his expression by the time Scott came back with a plastic cup of water in hand. "That's one option."

"Sounds fun huh." Richard's swayed dangerously nearly falling off the stool. "Not to brag, but I have had no complaints from my previous men. And I can be quite flexible." His eyebrows waggled around in a humorous fashion.

Dean couldn't help but wonder if the second he had one too many he began to act like this. He began to get curious at how many women walked away laughing at him after he made a drunken pass at them. He shook his head. That was not a road he wanted to go down. "I'm sure you can be very flexible. I'll see when I'm available."

Happy that was out of the way Richard's raised his hand up and ordered another drink, but Scott had other plans.

"You're toasted Mark. Not selling you anything else. You can have water."

Richard's didn't look too happy and started to argue with Scott. "It's my money, and if I want another drink-"

"Then I'll get in trouble. I served you one too many anyways Mark. I know you're a regular, but I'm not putting your or my ass on the line." Under the impression that Mark was getting somewhere with Dean, Scott gave an apologetic smile. "He usually isn't like this. Comes in has one or two drinks, and leaves. Tonight however he got a little _distracted_."

And that was exactly what Dean was trying to do. Dean performed his usual mind trick and imagined Scott as a bikini clad woman. He offered Scott a warm, flirty smile. "It's ok. I figured as much." He waited for Scott to get called away, and for Mark to start mumbling to himself angrily before glancing up at the clock. He'd been playing his role for an hour and a half. Where was Sam's call? Was she okay? Did she get more than she was expecting with their crazy ghost?

"So David this is getting lame, why don't we-"

Dean knew where Mark was going with this. "I am going to use the bathroom." He blurted. He could make a quick temporary retreat. Give his sister a call and check on her. If she needed more time then he could change the subject. Whatever Mark thought he was going to get, he certainly wasn't.

So intent on making his call, Dean slipped off the stool without seeing the effect those words had on the man. Mark sat slack jawed until a cheeky smile nearly split his face in two.

Dean slipped in the door to the bathroom happy to see it empty and pulled out his phone just as it offered a single chirp. Dean held his breath as the ringtone died down. The next second his ringtone flared up again and quieted. She was finished, sitting just outside the bar waiting for Dean. Dean spun around heading for the swinging door and let out a sharp curse.

Mark was stumbling in the door his hands already slipping to his belt. "I d'nt know you were that eager, but hey I don't mind. Usually I like my men in four star hotels but a quick dirty one certainly sounds fun."

He hadn't retreated. With the statement he'd given, Dean had invited the guy in. _Stupid._ "Look, I didn't mean to give the impression-"

"Don't play innocent." Mark pulled his belt off. "I bet you enjoy it hot and dirty a lot."

Dean couldn't deny that, but it wasn't with guys. "Look, I'm a little more classy. You have to wine and dine me first. How about I give you my number, and we can meet when your more sober."

Richard's intended to scoff, but it came out more like a drunk belch. He stumbled forward and reached for Dean's belt. "Don't play coy with me."

"Seriously man. I don't want to hurt you, but I will." Dean slapped away the man's hand and held him away at arm's length.

"Oh please hurt me." Richard's cooed.

"You know what…I've had enough." Dean drew one of his arms back and gave Mark Richard's a sharp punch. He didn't throw all of his strength in it, but it did the job. Mark slumped down and Dean left the man up against the wall. His walk now tense and angry he walked out of the bathroom and to the bar.

He put his hands in his pockets and deposited money on the counter. "Jerk was getting handsy in there." He informed Scott and watched the bartender's face grow concerned. "He's fine, just out. Despite how it looks I don't put out on a first date, you can tell your friend that when he wakes up." Dean stormed out of the bar watching Scott rush to the bathroom to check on his regular customer.

Ignoring the ruckus inside Dean slid the door closed and looked around for his car. She sat across the street. His sister sitting in the driver's side, her eyes were wide and the closer got Dean saw concern. He wondered how much she had seen.

"Move over." Dean ordered gruffly, and for once Sam didn't argue, she slid over to the passenger side and allowed Dean to slip into his usual spot. Dean slid his hands over the console of the car and made a content sound. "Man I missed you baby. That was hell." He twisted the keys in the ignition and started up his car. He slid her out of the parking spot and didn't let out the breath he held until they sat just outside their motel.

"So, I take it he made a move on you." Sam stated awkwardly from her seat. "Are you ok?"

Dean leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "I'm fine. Nothing a good session of therapy won't help." He took a second and turned to look at his sister. The light from the parking lot was casting shadows in the car so it took a second to really get a good look. When he finally did he didn't like what he saw. Her left arm was bleeding sluggishly from a bullet graze, her lip was large and bleeding, and a small knot was appearing on her temple.

"What the hell Sammy!? Tell me you got the bitch!" Dean rushed forward, took her face in hands, and twisted it towards the light.

Sam grinned knowing better than to fight off her protective brother. "I'm fine. Rebecca surprised me, but I moved away in time and just got grazed." She winced as Dean prodded the bruising lump on her head. She gave a chuckle after she composed herself. "One of Mark's antique snow globes hit me and knocked me down as the broach was melting. I don't think our OCD friend is going to be too happy about the state of his sitting room when he gets home."

Dean finally released her and took in a sharp breath. "Good, handsy bastard can deal with it." He cuffed Sam's shoulder gently. "Hey, let's get in the motel room. I'll patch you up."

Dean beat his little sister up to their room and already had the kit out. He rushed to the bathroom and wetted a towel while Sam slid off her button up and sat down on the bed without needing to hear the order. They'd both been in this position before and knew how protective each other was.

"Hey man, I'm sorry." Sam winced as Dean started dabbing at the angry red mark on her arm.

"For what?" Dean didn't look up from his work.

"Wanted to get back at you for making your sexist comment, so I kind of sat outside the bar for a little, watching."

Dean paused. "You ass."

She tried to bring up her arm's in an apologetic motion, but Dean tersely told her to stay still. His lips stayed thin, but he continued to work on cleaning off the blood from her arm. Sam tried to say something else but Dean silenced her with a look.

"How long were you out there?" Dean asked digging out the antiseptic.

"Twenty five minutes." She hissed in surprise when Dean poured an ample amount of the alcohol over her wound but didn't say anything. She kind of deserved it. "The second though I saw him following you into the bathroom…" She had been horrified. It was funny watching her brother awkwardly flirt with the drunk man. She had even laughed when Dean had jumped at the hand at his thy, but seeing him being followed she knew that the situation had gone too far.

"So that's why the call came when it did." Dean hadn't missed the fact that Sam had given him the signal the second he'd stepped in that bathroom. It had been perfect timing. As a last bit of revenge Dean slapped a bandage on her arm grinning at the groan. "I will get you back."

She hadn't intended to inform him. She knew the second he was aware she'd have to be looking over her shoulder, and checking her shampoo, but the guilt had just been too much. It was one thing to play an innocent prank, and it was another thing to nearly scar someone for the rest of their lives. "Yeah, I'll be looking out." She chuckled.

 **(A/N- Another weird concept. I know.)**


End file.
